


A Valentine's Day Surprise

by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0



Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [14]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Art, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Reads to Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Uses Technology, Books, Crowley Can't Keep Secrets, Crowley Has Secrets (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, No Smut, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Presents, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, because there are tags for both of them being anxious TT, but they're not even that secret, like a lot of really really soft kissing, like art in the fic not art of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29758395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0/pseuds/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0
Summary: Valentine's day is swiftly approaching and Aziraphale has been gushing over a book. Crowley buys the book for him, but Aziraphale is devastated when he discovers that the book is no longer available. Crowley desperately wants to tell him that the book is actually his, but that would ruin the surprise! Well, maybe Crowley just isn't cut out for surprises...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784653
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	A Valentine's Day Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> This is my long overdue Valentine's day fic!! At least it's still February... nevermind that it's the last day! 
> 
> This fic got away from me, to say the least... I thought it was going to be relatively short (and if it had been I would have finished it by Valentine's day *shakes fist*), but then they kept having more things to say and do and I just couldn't say no to these besotted idiots. 
> 
> It's very much like dandelions. Obviously a weed, but they're pretty, so you decide to let them grow. But by the next day, there's so many of them and they cover your yard in random splotches of yellow. And you think to yourself 'well, it looks a bit like a disaster, but they're still pretty.' and it's obviously too late to pull them all up now...
> 
> Okay, don't mind me getting carried away with my metaphors XD 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic in all its dandelonious glory. (Disclaimer: dandelonious is not a real word. I totally just made that up.)

“Crowley? I need your assistance with something, if you have a moment!” Aziraphale called, sitting up straight and wiggling in excited anticipation in front of a very new computer.

“I’ve always got a moment for you, angel,” Crowley said, sauntering out of his plant room in their cottage (which had a considerably cheerier atmosphere than the one in his flat had - _not_ to imply that Crowley was coddling the plants. He would never. But… if he _occasionally_ told them that all of the kind words the angel said to them were true and that they deserved the love Aziraphale bestowed upon their proud leaves… well, that was between Crowley and the plants.). He planted a kiss into the angel’s sweetly scented curls. “What d’you need?”

“Well!” Aziraphale said, beaming up at him, “I was hoping you’d help me return to my viewing queue on the Echo Bay Technology Group website!”

“It’s called eBay, remember? We only found out about the existence of the Echo Bay Technology Group because you insisted we Google _why_ it was called eBay,” Crowley said, leaning in over the angel to operate the computer. 

“Aha… right…” was all that Aziraphale replied with, because he was still a bit mystified by the concept of Google and it certainly wasn’t easier to understand when his head was swimming with the smell of Crowley’s cologne.

“Here,” Crowley turned the computer so that the screen displaying a list of outrageously expensive and rare books faced the angel.

“Oh! _Thank_ you, Crowley. You are so quick with these machines!” he said, patting his hand resting on their table affectionately. 

“‘S really nothing, angel,” he murmured with slightly pink cheeks. He may never grow used to the way Aziraphale thanked him. He always professed his gratitude with such genuine delight in his voice, and it stubbornly persisted to make Crowley’s heart squeeze a bit in his chest - even after years upon years of knowing the angel.

When Crowley returned to his plants he could hear little sounds of wonder and excitement coming from the other room. He smiled and continued his spritzing.

~×~

“Crowley!?” Aziraphale called frantically after having logged into the computer (yes, he knew how to do that now! He had learned that all he had to do was place his finger on the fingerprint reader - and, _yes,_ their computer had a fingerprint reader because Crowley wouldn’t settle for anything less than the most cutting-edge technology.) and finding his eBay tab. 

“What’s happened?” he asked, hurrying into the room at the sound of Aziraphale’s distressed voice. 

“I can no longer see one of the books I was watching! Where has it gone?!” he said, with perhaps a bit more alarm than the situation really called for.

“Umm… it looks like someone bought it?” Crowley said, focused on clicking many things on the computer and entirely missing Aziraphale’s shocked, dismayed, and slightly betrayed face. Aziraphale, for his part, was entirely missing Crowley’s rapidly growing anxious demeanor. “Here,” he said finally, “you can still look at the original listing with all of the pictures,” he turned the computer over to Aziraphale. 

The angel sighed melodramatically. “Oh, but it’s not the same! There is not even a smidge of potential for that book to fall into my hands,” he slumped his shoulders, the picture of melancholy.

“Well, that’s not _really_ true-” he said, trying to subtly imply that he was insinuating some further meaning, but Aziraphale interrupted before he could catch onto that fact.

“Yes, it is! It’s not as though _I_ was the one who purchased it!” he whined. 

“Aziraphale-” Crowley started, completely ready to give away all of his secret Valentine’s day schemes to return his partner to his now typical state of content. 

“I know, I know I’m being a bit of a ‘drama queen,’ as you might say,” he smiled slightly at his own word choice. “It’s fine, really, it’s not like I was going to purchase that book anyway. It was far too expensive and it clearly had seen better days. If I got it I’d have to do quite a lot of _restoring,”_ he said, sounding wistful. 

“I thought you _loved_ restoring,” Crowley pointed out quietly, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into anxious fists.

“Oh, Crowley, I do!” Aziraphale wailed. “I was trying to make myself feel better through deception! I didn’t know I had such strong feelings for that book, but now that it’s gone…”

The demon sighed with a smile before enveloping his ridiculous angel in a loving embrace. “‘S not _gone,_ angel. It’s still out there in the world, just waiting to become yours,” he comforted, pecking his cheek. 

Aziraphale huffed out a laugh. “If I may beg to differ…” 

“Aw, c’mon! Throwing in the towel so soon?” he said playfully.

The angel turned in Crowley’s arms to grin at him. “Thank you for your comfort, dearest. I will surely be fine without that _one_ book. I have so many others, after all! No need to wallow in the doldrums,” he gave Crowley a quick kiss before bustling over to the kitchen to prepare a cocoa for himself. 

Crowley was left staring at nothing in particular, turning over many many thoughts in his head. 

~×~

Aziraphale wasn’t _wallowing_ per se, but he certainly had not forgotten about that book. 

To be fair, he hadn’t actually brought it up again - which, Crowley was infinitely thankful for. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his mouth shut if he did. And, fortunately for the demon, it was now February 13th. He only had to keep this secret from his angel for one more day. That shouldn’t be _too_ difficult!

Except that it was proving to be quite difficult. 

Crowley, despite being a fairly powerful demon who was well versed in the art of deceit, was practically incapable of lying to his angel. Or keeping a secret from him. And Aziraphale was not making it easier on him. 

He kept bringing up events that had happened in the seventeenth century and asking Crowley if he remembered them. And for the most part, he did remember, aside from when he asked about things like ‘do you remember how books used to be illustrated with plates?’ and ‘remember when people printed the words by hand?’ 

No, he did not remember this, although he was sure he would have if he had spent as much time around Aziraphale back then as he did now. When he made this point to the angel he had smiled slightly sadly and said, “I suppose you’re right, dearest.” Then, he put his hand over the demon’s and looked him in the eye, and said, “I am _endlessly_ grateful that I get to spend eternity with you.” Afterward, Crowley was very impressed with himself that he didn’t just spew out everything right then and there, even if that was mostly due to him having been rendered speechless by Aziraphale’s declaration. 

A few times Aziraphale spoke to Crowley in Latin, and then seemed surprised when he responded in turn. (He didn’t know why he was, after all, it wasn’t _Crowley_ who forgot how to speak languages - although, he was equally eloquent in all of them. (Which is to say- not very.))

But it was now just after supper time, and Crowley had successfully kept the surprise to himself all day. He smiled as he rinsed his and Aziraphale’s plates, feeling very accomplished. They would probably cuddle on the sofa for a few hours, before moving to the bedroom, where they would cuddle a bit more, before falling asleep. Crowley could handle that. And then tomorrow it would be Valentine’s day! Tomorrow he’d be able to give Aziraphale his gift and watch as his face lit up with glee. It would be lovely and _entirely_ worth the wait.

Aziraphale looked up from the tea he was stirring and smiled softly as Crowley headed over to their sofa. He lifted the blanket he was already under, inviting Crowley to join him in the warmth. The demon quickly slid beneath the blanket and fit himself against the angel, like they were puzzle pieces that were meant to be connected. He let out a contented sigh and melted further into the warmth and comfort. 

Aziraphale hummed, the sound slightly vibrating his rib cage that Crowley was pressed against. “Are you happy, my dear?” he asked softly. 

Crowley smiled, knowing his answer deep in his bones. “Yes. I am. I get to spend Valentine’s day with the love of my life tomorrow.” 

“It won’t be the first time,” he whispered, clearly trying to keep his voice even. Crowley could tell Aziraphale was anxious about something, but he wasn’t too worried. He knew his angel was wont to stress about ‘big days,’ but he also knew that as long as Crowley was there they would be alright. And he had absolutely no intention of leaving Aziraphale. 

“And it won’t be the last,” Crowley reassured. 

“But… does it feel… any less special for you? Or boring? Or predictable?” he asked, turning now to look Crowley in the eyes. 

“It does not. I won’t ever get bored of you, Aziraphale,” he leaned in gently to rest his forehead against the angel’s. 

He hummed in tremulous acknowledgment. 

Crowley bit his lip, unsure if he should voice a question he believed he already knew the answer to. He supposed there was no harm in checking. “Is it… _less_ for you? Or- or more boring or-” 

“Oh, goodness no, my dear!” Aziraphale said, leaning back and taking Crowley’s face in his hands to study him. “No, no, not at all,” he confirmed, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. 

“So, you’re happy then?” he asked the question that had started this whole conversation. 

“I am,” Aziraphale answered in turn. “I truly am. I mean- look at our life together! Our wonderful little cottage that’s perfect for us both. Our garden that you tend to even in this cold weather so that we will have produce when it warms up. All of our bookshelves that hold our books that we get to enjoy together. Our kitchen where we cook and bake with each other, or _for_ each other-” he wiggled happily at the thought- “Our bedroom, our bed- this sofa of ours! There is _so much_ to be happy about, my dear! But the thing that makes me happiest is that this - all of this! - is _ours._ Yours and mine together. I’m happy because I get to spend my life side by side with you, dearest.”

Crowley was teary-eyed. This beautiful angel, who struggled with talking about his own worries, was so incredibly adept at soothing others. He wasn’t really surprised, he knew this about Aziraphale, but he was still in awe of his loveliness. So in awe that he was struggling to find the words to reciprocate all of these feelings. He decided to try anyway; Aziraphale was worth it. “Angel, I- I love you so much. Always have, still do, and I always will, so _very_ much,” he said, voice breaking slightly. 

“Oh, _Crowley,”_ Aziraphale said, and pulled him in for a very heartfelt kiss. 

When he backed away they smiled at each other, like the soppy, besotted couple they were proud to be. 

Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, tugging one of his arms close to him so that they could hold hands. The angel beamed at his cuddly demon and leaned down to peck his head. “Would you like to hear some of my book? It’s a romance,” he said with a slight sing-song tone. 

“Sure, angel, you’ve won me over,” Crowley answered, his words a bit muffled by his face being partially pressed into Aziraphale’s arm. 

“Splendid!” he said excitedly. Crowley had made it clear in the past that he loved when Aziraphale read to him, so he knew he didn’t _actually_ have to win him over. Aziraphale still chose to ask every time. Crowley didn’t think his answer would ever change, but the angel got so excited when he said yes. And so he continued to ask, and Crowley continued to agree, and Aziraphale continued to get that elated grin on his face each time they read together. 

Aziraphale began to read out loud. The story was about a girl who fell in love with a boy (Crowley muttered something about ‘heteronormative bullshit’) and felt very shy around him. Little did she know that all of the outrageous stunts he kept doing were to get her attention! (Crowley pointed out that this was fairly obvious and the girl was extremely oblivious. Aziraphale reminded him of how surprised he had been when the angel had confessed to him and told him that people in glass houses should probably opt to leave the stone-throwing to others. Crowley promptly buried his face further into Aziraphale’s shoulder.)

At one point in the story, the main character was at a bookshop with her friend. She was asking him for advice on how to talk to the boy she liked, and every course of action her friend suggested she refused, saying she couldn’t possibly take it. Crowley had been feeling very annoyed with this girl and her resistance on just _talking_ to this bloke when Aziraphale stopped reading and instead said, “I’d quite like to go to a bookshop.” 

“Er- what?” Crowley asked. “The bookshop?”

“No, silly, not _my_ bookshop. I already own all of those books!” he said merrily.

“Erm… so… what?” Crowley asked again. 

“Oh, I was just thinking- well, the way the author was describing this shop in the book was making me wish I could go to a bookstore! It sounded very lovely, and I haven’t bought any new books in a while now-” 

“Didn’t you get one last month? That one about eh… Wicca?”

“Ah, yes, well, that one was very nice, but it was of a more instructional genre. And that was a month ago, Crowley! I am just saying, I have not felt the thrill of a new book in some time-” 

“I’ll say,” Crowley laughed anxiously, “all the books you get are old!” he willed his heartbeat to slow down, but apparently that function of his corporation was out of his hands at the moment. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “New to _me,_ then. I just think it would be quite nice to go to a bookshop sometime. Purchase some new books. Maybe get one that requires some _restoring,_ like that one on eBay would have!” 

At this point, Crowley’s heart was beating at a deafening level in his ears. He hummed along in agreement at Aziraphale’s tangent about what qualities these books could potentially have, not really listening anymore. 

When Aziraphale’s tone shifted from excitement to worry and he heard him say “... oh, darling, are you alright?” he immediately jumped to attention. 

“Yeah! Yeah, ‘m alright, why do you ask?” 

“Well, you’re squeezing my hand very tightly,” the angel said apprehensively. 

Crowley quickly released his hand, instead picking at the blanket. “Oh, sorry,” he said, not looking at Aziraphale. 

“Crowley… is there something amiss?”

“Nnnn- not- well… I just- eugh- what time is it, angel?”

“What time…?” 

“Yeah, what time is it?”

Aziraphale shifted a bit to get a hold of his pocket watch. “It is six past midnight, my dear.” 

Crowley’s lips turned up slightly in the beginning of a grin.

“Might I ask, what the time has to do with all of this?” Aziraphale’s big eyes were scanning Crowley carefully. 

“Welllll, it’s officially Valentine’s day now, innit?”

The angel smiled. “I suppose it is,” he said softly. “Happy Valentine’s day, my love.” 

Crowley chuckled happily as his angel leaned in. He smiled into his angel’s lips. Aziraphale tasted like honey and something flowery from the tea he’d had. 

Crowley pulled away from the tender kiss to speak. “Since it’s now officially the day ‘n all, I’d like to give you your gift?” his voice rose slightly at the end of his statement, turning it into more of a question. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, his hands fluttering up to his face in surprise. “You don’t have to do that, dearest, I’m fine with waiting-” 

“But I’m not!” Crowley admitted in a playful tone. “I have been _struggling_ to keep this a secret from you Aziraphale.” 

“Oh, really? A demon as redoubtable as yourself couldn’t handle telling an angel a few white lies?” Aziraphale teased. 

_“Yes,”_ Crowley said fervently. “I have wanted to tell you for _weeks_ now. So, let me give you your pressssent!” he hissed the last word through his teeth, before leaning in to peck Aziraphale’s nose, and then hurry off to wherever he was hiding his Valentine’s gift. 

Aziraphale chuckled lightly at his adorable demon. 

Crowley returned shortly, with his hands behind his back, obviously holding the present. Aziraphale grinned. 

“Alright. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“Is that really necessary…?” Crowley made a choked noise of exasperated disbelief, like Aziraphale’s hesitance was outlandish instead of what he was asking him to do. “Alright, alright,” the angel sighed and did as he was told. 

Crowley gingerly set the wrapped package into the angel’s outstretched hands and then quickly stepped back. 

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Yeah, yes, yes, open them,” Crowley said, tapping his thighs.

The angel opened his eyes slowly. He glanced at the parcel and then his eyes flicked up to Crowley. 

“Well, go on then,” the demon nodded encouragingly.

Aziraphale’s face flickered into a smile before he went to unwrapping the gift _painfully_ slowly.

“For someone’s sake, angel, I don’t wanna be up all night!” he said, tapping his foot in what seemed like a display of impatience, but actually had much more to do with anxiety. 

Aziraphale said nothing, he only tried to frown at him, which didn’t really work because his face was too busy beaming. Faces aren’t known for multitasking, after all. 

When he finally peeled away enough wrapping paper that he could see what it was, he placed a hand over his heart and gasped. “Cr-Crowley is this-?”

“Yeah,” Crowley exhaled the word as the breath he’d been holding for weeks now. 

“Darling!!”

Crowley’s eyes widened at Aziraphale’s yell. “Ye-yeah?”

 _“You_ were the one who-” he began to say, coming to many conclusions at once. He cut his previous sentence off by placing a hand over his mouth. “This… this cost as much as our cottage…” 

“Ehhhhhhh it didn’t. Not quite,” Crowley said, staring at the ground now. 

Aziraphale sat in stunned silence while Crowley fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“You- you don’t like it,” he stated sadly. 

“Like it- _Crowley!_ I love it!” Aziraphale said, suddenly on his feet, cupping Crowley’s face in his hands. 

“You do?” he asked softly, his irises fully expanded in his eyes.

“Oh, goodness, yes!! Yes, I love it so much! _Thank_ you, thank _you, thank you.”_

Crowley’s breath hitched at Aziraphale’s enthusiastically sincere gratitude. “It’s- you’re welcome,” he said, with a small, pure, and genuine smile. 

Aziraphale bit his lip as he caressed the book tenderly. Crowley bit his own lip to keep his giddy laughter in. He was so glad his angel liked the gift. 

Suddenly, Aziraphale looked up, and Crowley could almost see a cartoon light bulb appear above his head. “Oh! I must show you _your_ present!” 

“Erm. You- you don’t have to- heh, that’s really-”

“No, no, no, no, no! I want to!!” he said, setting his new book on the coffee table. He got up and took Crowley by the hand. “Come along! I must say, I too had a hard time keeping this from you, but for an entirely different reason…” 

He led them up the stairs of their cottage and down the hall to his study. Bookshelves were packed in tightly all around the room with his desk in the center and a loveseat in one corner.

“Now I suppose it’s your turn to close your eyes,” Aziraphale said, turning back to him. Crowley obeyed immediately, but then began to move his arms as a way to survey his surroundings. “No need for that, dear, I’ve got you,” Aziraphale said, pressing against him so he could guide him from behind. 

“Why did we have to walk here, angel? Couldn’t you have just grabbed the present and brought it to me?” Crowley asked belatedly. 

“You’ll see in a moment,” Aziraphale guided Crowley to one of the corners without the loveseat and brought them both to a halt behind a bookshelf. He came around to Crowley’s side and looked at his face hopefully, only to see that he still had his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, you can open them now, darling,” he said softly. 

Crowley blinked his golden eyes open, glancing at the angel before his gaze landed on a painting that was leaning against the bookshelf. He gasped when he saw what it was. “Aziraphale this… this looks like _Rembrandt…”_

After a moment Aziraphale nodded and spoke in a small voice, “It is.”

“How… how on _Earth_ did you get this?!”

“I commissioned him. Many, many years ago.”

“Clearly,” Crowley muttered, not because of the condition it was in, but instead because “he’s been dead for _centuries_ now.”

“Indeed,” Aziraphale said, his eyes trained on Crowley.

“But how- I mean, I don’t remember this,” he said, turning to look at Aziraphale. 

The angel smiled wryly. “You wouldn’t. You weren’t there. I-” he sighed. “I described you to him as best I could. I was very particular. We had a different skinny young gentleman come in to pose with me and- oh, Crowley the whole affair was so, very embarrassing.”

The painting depicted the two of them standing next to each other. Aziraphale had his hands behind his back and was smiling a small smile. He was wearing an outfit that was quite similar to the one he wore in the Globe Theatre when they had gone to see Hamlet at Aziraphale’s insistence. Crowley - or, he supposed, the ‘skinny young gentleman’ - wore a long black coat with tight pants. He stood with one hand on his hip, the other hanging limply at his side closest to Aziraphale. His hair was in deep red waves slightly longer than his shoulders and-

“My eyes…” Crowley said in wonderment. “How did you-”

Aziraphale sighed again. “I- oh goodness, let me start at the beginning. He first painted me and the gentleman who was standing in for you; I believe he was already slightly vexed by my odd request, but he went along with it because I was paying him handsomely and he needed the money. I had chosen from the gentleman’s clothes to find ones that looked the most like something you’d wear, I told Rembrandt that you had red wavy hair, and I was very much in charge of how you were going to look, and he was alright with that - as I said, I had a lot of money for him. He was alright _until_ the eyes. I told him you had golden eyes, you see. And he gave you golden eyes, with these horrendously ordinary, rounded pupils. I told him that they were actually vertical slits and he said that wasn’t right, and that if he did them that way you would look hideous! Now, I took offense to that. So much so, in fact, that after he finished giving you human eyes I- I went and rubbed the wet paint of the pupils into slits myself,” he said, staring down at his fidgeting hands.

“Angel!” Crowley laughed out in disbelief.

Aziraphale stared at the floor. “He was very angry after that. He refused to finish the painting- that’s why your eyebrows look a bit odd and our clothes aren’t as detailed as they might be. I was properly mortified by my actions. I took the painting and I paid him in full.”

Crowley blew out a long breath, very shocked and nearly speechless from what Aziraphale was relaying to him. 

The angel continued, “As you can imagine, it was hard to keep away from you - and the rest of the world - for these many years. It spent most of its time in a pocket dimension. I visited it often, though. I was actually quite upset with myself for a long while for how frequently I went to see it. How much time I wasted staring at a painting of a demon, how silly I was for making Rembrandt paint this at all. But it really is beautiful, and I hold it dear to my heart.”

“Angel, I-” Crowley’s voice wobbled. “I don’t know what to say. You- that was a _long_ time ago,” he managed to express one of the many, many thoughts flooding his head. 

“It was,” Aziraphale nodded. “The seventeenth century.”

“The seventeenth century,” Crowley repeated. “You did that much for a painting of me in the _seventeenth_ century!”

Aziraphale giggled slightly. “I did!”

Crowley laughed breathlessly, “You did. My darling angel.” Suddenly, Crowley pulled Aziraphale into a firm hug. “I love it. I love _you,”_ he spoke into the angel’s shoulder. “Thank you. I-” the demon’s voice cracked as he realized how much this must have taken for Aziraphale to gift this to him. How sure he must be in his love for him if he felt he could tell him about this. How awful he must have felt when he commissioned it, and yet, he had done so anyway, and now he was sharing it with him. It meant so much to Crowley, so much he wasn’t sure he’d be able to process it within the year. But that was alright. They had eternity, after all. 

“I love you too,” Aziraphale whispered. “I’m very glad you like it.”

“I really do,” Crowley said, leaning back from the hug, but keeping his arms wrapped around his angel. “And I like the story of how you got it, even though it was probably painful for you to remember for a while.”

Aziraphale laughed sheepishly. “I like it too. It seems so silly now, but back then…”

“It was a different time. And it wasn’t silly- not at all. Isn’t even silly now,” Crowley reassured, making sure Aziraphale saw his eyes so he knew how much he meant the words. 

The angel smiled and leaned into his love’s embrace. “Thank you, darling,” he said softly. “Where do you think we should hang it?” 

“Mmmm… it seems fitting to hang one of our most exquisite pieces of fine art in a place like the dining room, don’t you think?” Crowley said, putting on a rather annoying posh accent. 

Aziraphale laughed despite himself. “Yes, I think that should do nicely. We can hang it up tomorrow, but for now, I believe I’d rather sleep with my husband. Would he be amenable to such an intimate act?” he said playfully. 

“If you’re talking about actual sleep, I think he’d be more than amenable.”

“Oh, I am,” Aziraphale tittered. 

“Well, then. After you, angel,” Crowley said, motioning for Aziraphale to lead the way with one hand, while the other found a grip on his love’s. 

Aziraphale smiled as they left his study. He squeezed Crowley’s hand as they made their way down the staircase. 

“Would you mind terribly if I read to you as you fell asleep? I did just get a new book, after all,” he said, his tone coquettish. 

“I wouldn’t mind in the slightest- but I know you mentioned before that it needed restoring. Will it be okay…?”

“Oh, it won’t fall apart on me,” Aziraphale answered, patting the book lightly. 

“Alright,” Crowley said, his lips being tugged into an easy smile for what must have been the millionth time that day. Smiles came to both of them so effortlessly often these days, but their repetitive nature did not make them even the slightest bit less wonderful. 

Aziraphale took the book with him as they headed to their bedroom. They each quickly put on their pajamas and got into bed, both eager to sleep (Crowley more so than Aziraphale) as it was now quite late. 

Aziraphale lay, leaning against the headboard so he was sitting up enough to be in a comfortable position for reading, and Crowley was wrapped around him as much as he could be with the confines of his human form. 

The angel opened to the first page of the book and sighed, wiggling happily. “Thank you so much for getting this for me, dearest.”

“‘S my pleasure, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s shoulder. Crowley’s voice already had a bit more gravel to it even after laying down for a short time. 

Aziraphale’s heart squeezed, feeling as though it would burst with happiness any second now. He looked at his demon, his beautiful serpent eyes closed, his face relaxed and content. The angel was more than chuffed with the whole situation and truly could not think of anything better. He kissed the tips of his fingers and brought them down to gently press against Crowley’s snake tattoo. 

Crowley had promptly buried his face into Aziraphale’s arm at his ministrations, so he felt more than saw Crowley’s smile. A muffled _“Read,_ angel,” could be heard. 

“As you wish.”

Now, Aziraphale was graced with seeing Crowley’s smile once more as his head turned to look up at him. “Princess Bride?”

“Indeed,” he said, clearly delighted that Crowley had recognized his reference. 

“You’re a sap. A bloody endearing sap.”

“Am I now?” 

“You are,” Crowley said, then paused. ““When he was saying, ‘As you wish,’ what he meant was, ‘I love you,’”” he quoted in a low voice. 

Aziraphale smiled. “I do love you.”

“I love you too. Now. You’ve been talking about it for weeks. So, read the damn book, angel,” Crowley said with no bite to his words, cuddling further into Aziraphale. 

He bit his lip, unable to help himself. “As you wish.” 

Crowley exhaled a laugh through his nose as Aziraphale started to read. 

Very early on that Valentine’s day morning, a demon was carried into sleep by an angel’s voice lilting in Latin. And they were happy and in love. 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so very much for reading!!! If you liked that I would really appreciate a comment or kudos <3


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